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I long to be loathed when I grow old
And hope the youth won't understand

I want them to ink scathing marks on my corpse
After measuring the works of my hand

I dream they'll pursue some blaze anew
Superseding what we would call grand

And I hope that the youth work out some new truth
You and I could never command
Used to use drink to get out of my head
But these days there are less conversations.

Now when I drink, it's just me and my dread;
"Out of my head" is out on vacation.
Drinking lost its fun
When my tethers were undone
And I had to reassess a few virtues.

Not that it's all bad,
But for me that's a 'soft pass'.
I hope you, too, address that which would hurt you.
An equilateral triangle of stars
That can only be observed
When two do the work of One

A singular frozen moment
That is understood as
Here, passed, and yet to be

An immaculate reminder
That the shroud is shared
By all things in Her grasp
Every bit and every key
Every thing that makes me "me"

Validation via screen
Validation via stream

A proxy heart
And virtual veins
Code information
To my brain

Burn down the walls
Or let me climb
Type truth to form
And shape my mind

As cord's to board
So is root to tree
This light is so bright
That I can't see

Glitching bits and corrupted keys
Validate me or I'll scream

Constitute my myocene
Validation via screen
We each contain components which we would rather reject. One of mine feels the deep desire to know the approval of strangers. I do not like this, but it is the truth.

Rather than removing and rejecting the urge, I am choosing to embrace and integrate it, with the hope that it may someday grow into a healthier version of itself. With the help and kindness of friends, I believe this is an attainable goal.

I seek external validation too earnestly because I was taught, incorrectly, that only fools are pleased with themselves. If it does not come from another, if it is only true to you; how can it be agreed upon as 'real'? This idea put me in a position that made it advantageous to try and understand the wants and needs of other people. Which is not, itself, an innoble goal, of course. The major issue that I have with it is that I've widely done so in order to help myself, rather than aiming for the obviously more thoughtful alternative.

Someday my Validation Machine will be addressed by another name, as her function will swing toward kinder things. I look forward to this day. But until then, a plugged-in and needy being, I must, for now, remain.
In bed at night
I bide my time
Just waiting til
It all is right

With closed eyes
I try to find
A piece of mine
I need not fight

Engage with rites
Illumed, alight
To shed the fright
And sharpen sights

I've practiced death
For all my life
I bide my time
In bed at night
Wandering
Underneath
Influence
You and me

We were young
Young and dumb
Rising sun
Bright morning

Hot to hold
Truth be told
Pain to me
Underneath

Rising star
What you are
River's reach
More like me

Before eve
Heat and steam
Lost drifting
Hard to breathe

Reaching high
Far to fly
Fluttering
Stumbling

Took too long
Then chose wrong
Night came on
Took to sleep

Mourning dream
You and me
Could have been
Something sweet
Staring at the screen again
Just drowning out the thought

I press one key
And suddenly

I'm shrouded in the 'not'
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